


the best of us

by written_you_down



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Umbrella Academy (TV) Fusion, Dysfunctional Family, Idiots in Love, M/M, all of my christmas fics and all of your christmas fics we post them one by one, i'd rather be the ghost that annoys you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27991266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_you_down/pseuds/written_you_down
Summary: It wasn’t as if this was their first apocalypse, nor would it be their last.
Relationships: Kyle Simmons/Dan Smith
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	the best of us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartbreakordeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartbreakordeath/gifts).



> merry christmas and happy gift fic month, my friend!
> 
> (go ahead and soundtrack this one to Blame)

Charlie dropped from the sky and hit the ground with a thud.

No matter that he had travelled through time, space, and lifetimes a squillion _fucking_ times over the span of his thirty-two years of life—it was still insanely difficult to land gracefully. 

He stood carefully and brushed the muck from his knees. They were lightly grazed, as were the palms of his hands. There was nothing to be done for that. Straightening, he took in his surroundings. Dark alley, dumpsters to his left—he was completely alone aside from the few feral cats on the curb watching him with judgement in their eyes.

“As if you could do any better,” he told them. 

One of the cats, the fluffiest of the bunch, yawned in boredom, time-traveling-assassin-super heroes clearly being of no interest to it. 

“Though to be fair, you lot do tend to land on your feet, don’t you? I don’t suppose any of you know what year it is?” 

The most raggedy cat of the bunch blinked at him before it resumed eating what appeared to be actual rubbish. 

“Right then,” Charlie noted. He adjusted his navy blue blazer (christ, he was tired of being endlessly sentenced to dressing like an adolescent school boy) and set off to the diner across the street. 

It was late. No one was out, there were no cars in the street. The only sounds were Charlie’s academy issued shiny black shoes and the sound of the diner’s sign as it buzzed off and on. The lettering read _diner_ in a pink cursive font and periodically the letters ’n’ and ‘r’ disappeared altogether. The sign joyfully blinked the word ‘di e ’ over and over again. 

Which seemed fitting, Charlie supposed, as he had walked away from an apocalypse less than ten minutes ago.

Charlie caught his reflection in the diner’s glass window and paused. He scowled and found himself staring at his surly fifteen-year-old self. To be trapped in a teenaged body when one was in their 30s seemed a very high price to pay for a miscalculation doing maths on a time jump. 

Nothing to be done for that either. At least not for the time being. 

Walking into the diner, he noticed a stack of newspapers piled on the counter, the top of which read:

**Dallas Star  
November 22, 2019**

Excellent.

He was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

Charlie took a seat in one of the booths and waited for the others.

—

Kyle ran as quickly as he could manage, his long legs creating distance between him and his honest-to-god-cult. 

Why, oh why, had he thought becoming a cult leader was a great idea? Sure, the money, admiration and drugs were divine, but overall, the ‘60s were so fucking weird. The only thing Kyle didn’t regret was calling them Destiny’s Children. Naming them that had been the only time Kyle had actually felt a Divine intervention. He giggled every time they had a gathering and he was able to address them as such. 

The members of Destiny’s Children proved to be clingy beyond anything Kyle could have foreseen. He glanced over his shoulder and found that a handful were still giving chase. They were both clingy _and_ in surprisingly good shape. Briefly, Kyle wondered what passed for a proper cardio workout in 1963. 

His sandals made ridiculous flapping sounds as they hit the asphalt. The boxy, battered suitcase in his hand bumped his leg as he ran. Kyle would never understand why the Commission insisted on such ugly suitcases. They had all of time and the universe at their disposal, surely they could’ve come up with something sleeker.

Just ahead he could see Dan, who ran as if his life depended on it—which it didn’t, not anymore—and Kyle made another push to go faster. 

“Kyle!” Dan yelled. “Hurry the fuck up!”

Easy for Dan to say, Kyle thought, he had on the same trainers he always wore. Though to be fair, it was impossible for Dan to change his look. He was a ghost. It wasn’t as if he could actually go shopping. At least, Kyle didn’t think there were ghost shops. He made a mental note to ask later and see if Dan was just being lazy with his wardrobe choices. Not that it mattered. Dan looked good in black. Really good.

Kyle heard the cult shrieking his name behind him and refocused his energy on escape. Plenty of time to swoon over Dan later, unless the two of them missed the time jump and died in the apocalypse. That would probably put an _actual_ end to things.

He caught up to Dan and turned the corner into the alley at the same moment. 

Kyle struggled to catch his breath. “How much time do we have?”

Dan checked his calculator watch. “Forty-five seconds!”

“Oh, good. We have all the time in the world, then.” He grinned widely at Dan. “Can I just say that watching you run with your arms flailing all about remains my favourite thing ever?”

Dan’s face wrinkled. “Really? There’s an actual fucking apocalypse and an angry cult, _your_ cult, and that’s all you have to say to me?”

Kyle moved closer to Dan and watched the seconds tick away. He placed one hand on the suitcase’s latch and with his other hand intertwined his fingers with Dan’s. 

“Just that and—“ Kyle grinned wider, locked eyes with Dan, then added, “—that I love you.”

Kyle flung the suitcase open and the two were jerked forcefully into nothingness. 

—

Woody smashed an elbow into the face of a masked man and then pivoted to slam his suitcase underneath the chin of another. One fell to the ground immediately, while the other needed a swift blow to the stomach to help him along his way. 

He moved without putting any real thought into what he was doing. He had been born to do this, after all. What talent he didn’t already have naturally, years of training had provided him. 

Woody stepped back and executed a roundhouse kick that was designed to immobilize its recipient—which, of course, it instantly did. Woody barely gave that bloke a second glance before reaching down to retrieve the knife he kept strapped to his ankle. He casually flung the blade, and it stopped the masked man who had thought running directly at Woody was a solid course of action. 

As he fought, Woody was mindful of the time. He only had so long before he had to open his suitcase and get the hell out of here and leave the sixties in his past. As he glanced at his watch, someone managed to slice a blade of their own across Woody’s cheek.

He felt blood trickle down his face. The pain didn’t even register. No, Woody was _offended_ that this dude had actually deigned to touch him. Woody was on a bloody mission. He had just saved the world from destruction and this guy, this guy wanted to scratch his face? The absolute _nerve_ of this wanker.

Woody grasped the offender’s wrist and felt it break as he twisted it in just the right way. He brought the suitcase around and landed it against the back of the bloke’s head, watching as he crumpled to the ground. Fucking right. That would show him what was what. 

You don’t just cut heroes. 

“Show some respect, you prat. I just saved the fucking world.” Woody frowned. People were so ungrateful. He glanced at his watch again and sprinted away when he saw he only had moments left. He didn’t want to be too close to these tossers when the portal opened and waste even more time fighting them in the future. 

Naturally they didn’t take the hint and a few men continued to charge at him even as he escaped. Woody turned and flicked another knife at the man closest to him. It stuck in the dude’s thigh just as Woody snapped the suitcase open.

Woody yelled at them as he disappeared from their world:

“You’re welcome!” 

—

The city burned behind Will as he sauntered to his destination. 

He had mixed feelings about his time in 1963 Dallas: there were an endless amount of things that needed changing, that went without saying, but the clothes and cars were cool as hell. The music scene in Dallas was surprisingly rich. Will had caught all sorts of gigs from Sam Cooke to the Beach Boys. 

It really was a shame that Johnny Cash was in town the very next night. Will had been looking forward to seeing the man in black in his prime. 

Well, it couldn’t be helped, Will supposed. 

Charlie had _insisted_ that the time jump happen today. Will knew better than to try and reason with the eternal adolescent assassin when it came to time travel. It made Charlie quite petulant and inevitably someone ended up injured. Usually Woody, but still. 

Best just to go along with it. Save the world and then turn up at the appropriate time and place afterwards. 

Will strolled along the sidewalk, suitcase swinging gently at his side. 

People rushed the streets around him in utter chaos, but he cut a straight line through the crowd. A left turn, a quick right, and he was almost there. He pulled his pocket watch out (which he had decided was to remain a staple in his wardrobe in 2019—it was so damn civilized, far more proper than checking one’s mobile) and felt a shadow pass over him. 

He glanced up and found that he was surrounded by five men wearing masks.

“Hey, asshole. Where do you think you’re going?” said the largest one, stepping directly in front of Will.

Will sighed. 

Not this again. 

“The future,” he replied.

“The fuck you are,” the man snarled, moving closer. 

“Mates. I’m actually in a bit of a rush. You’ll want to let me through,” Will smiled amiably. 

Will saw the man’s punch coming before he even formed his fist to throw it. Villains _always_ telegraphed their punches—it was so predictable. Will ducked and moved closer to the man’s ear:

“I heard a rumor…” Will spoke and felt waves ripple through the air around the words. The men instantly froze in place as they waited for his instruction. “…that you walked away from me right now and forgot this ever happened.”

The men all turned stiffly and moved away from Will. He watched them go, smirked and continued on, suitcase swinging, whistling “Ring of Fire” as he went. 

Ahead was the bench Charlie had described earlier and Will took a seat. He still had loads of time before he needed to open the suitcase, and he took in his surroundings as he waited. People were still running full sprint, yelling and screaming as they went. Will did feel actual pity for them. They had just lost a President, after all. It was a tragedy—the man could have done great things had he only had more time. It wasn’t that Will didn’t understand their fear and their loss, but he had the luxury of knowing what life was like fifty-six years from now. It tended to numb the shock of these sorts of things.

And it wasn’t as if this was Will’s first apocalypse. Nor, he mused, would it be his last.

He glanced to his right and noticed a newspaper abandoned on the bench beside him. The front page read:

**Dallas Star  
November 22, 1963**

**PRESIDENT KENNEDY TO PAY VISIT TODAY**

Will picked the paper up and shook the pages loose. He read for a handful of minutes until it was time for him to go. 

Lost in their own sadness and chaos, none of the bystanders paid Will any attention as he slowly opened his suitcase and disappeared from sight.

—

Charlie was already on his second cup of coffee when Kyle entered the diner with a flourish wearing sunglasses and a million beaded necklaces. He looked like a bedazzled, homeless Jesus. Kyle made his way to Charlie’s table, his jewelry clanking together as he moved. 

Kyle slid into the booth across the table from Charlie, leaving some space between himself and the window. “Did you pick this place because its sign is cheerfully advertising death in flashing lights?” Kyle wondered. “Cause that’s a bit fucked, even for you, little one.”

“No. It’s just a happy coincidence.” Charlie glowered. “Nice to see that you didn’t even make an attempt of wearing the appropriate clothing for the decade you’re currently in.”

Kyle lifted the corners of his mouth and his sunglasses into his hair at the same time. “I’ve never been one to blend in, Charles. Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re wearing a school boy’s uniform and you’re a grown man—“

“I look fifteen,” Charlie hissed.

Kyle took time to stare at a menu before he bothered to answer. “You act as if you’re fifteen so I suppose it suits…”

Charlie didn’t travel through fifty-plus years and save the world (again) to put up with Kyle’s absolute nonsense. He took a breath and huffed it out loudly. “Is Dan here?”

Kyle peered at Charlie from the top of the menu. “Dan is always here, in our hearts.”

“I meant here. Sitting beside you in this booth, next to the window, you idiot.”

“Well,” Kyle leaned forward with a smile. “He _was_ , but now he’s actually under the table, knotting your shoelaces together because you’re being such a complete prat.”

Charlie looked down at his feet and found that his laces were in an absolute tangled mess. Swearing, he twisted and brought his feet up into the booth and began to work on undoing them. It was cruel of the universe to trap him in adolescence when, clearly, Kyle and Dan were the ones who had never left it. 

Kyle glanced to his right and smiled at the seemingly empty space beside him. “I _know_ ,” Kyle laughed. “Charlie is the absolute worst.”

Before Charlie could reply, he heard the door squeak open and watched as Woody scanned the room. He walked over, hesitating as to where he should sit. “Kyle, is Dan over there by you? I can grab a chair, if so, cause I can’t make out what in the hell Charlie is doing with his feet right now.”

Woody dragged a chair over and settled at the end of the table. Kyle winced as he stared at Woody’s face. “You’re bleeding, ew.”

Woody brought his fingers up to his cheek and frowned as they came away bloody. “Still? Shit. I was minding my own when I unexpectedly got into a scuffle just before I left.” He reached for a napkin from the dispenser that sat on the table and frowned as Kyle and Charlie broke into laughter. “What?”

“Unexpectedly,” Kyle managed.

“Just out of fucking nowhere,” Charlie added and they all but cackled as Woody became more and more agitated. 

“It was!” he insisted. “It wasn’t as if I went looking for it.”

That only brought on a new onslaught of snorts and guffaws from the two of them. 

“Ok, it isn’t that funny,” he muttered. “I’m sure Dan is being reasonable about this and has my back.”

Between giggles, Kyle said, “He said to look at the window.”

They all watched as a small patch of air fogged up the glass as if someone had breathed on it. Slowly the letters **L O L** appeared.

Woody flipped both his middle fingers up into the air just as Will sauntered into the diner. He approached the table and observed the scene before him. His eyes lingered on the window and he smiled. “Hi Dan. Glad you made it through the latest apocalypse.”

The glass fogged again and a smiley face appeared with the words “cheers Will.” Will nodded in what he felt was Dan’s general direction and then looked over to Charlie. 

“Any chance you could move your feet so I can sit? Or are you going to keep making those knots worse until daybreak?” 

“This isn’t my doing” Charlie muttered. “Fucking ghost Dan with nothing better to do than—“

Will leaned against the side of the booth. “Move or I’ll just say the magic words, either way—“

“You wouldn’t,” Charlie snorted. “What a waste of—“

Will sighed heavily. “I heard a ru—“

Before Will could finish the thought, Charlie swore under his breath and swung his feet back to the floor. He glanced up when he heard the others break into laughter. Looking at each of them in confusion, he finally saw that there was a new message on the window:

**charlie sucks**

He scowled. “Very mature, guys. Christ, I should’ve left all of you in 1963 to fend for yourselves.” 

Everyone spoke at once in response:

“I was doing fine. I bet I could’ve stopped Oswald with some more time—“

“They thought I was a _god_ —”

“Could’ve seen Johnny Cash play a gig—“

The words on the window changed to “ **1963! woooooo** ”

Charlie read the message and then looked back to Kyle. “Dan speaks to you in complete sentences, does he not?”

Kyle paused. “That is correct. He had a lot to say about you just now.” He paused again and grinned widely. “Something along the lines of shaving your head next time you’re asleep.”

Charlie glared across the table. “Casper, I’d _love_ to see you tr—“

Will shifted in his seat and said, “I heard a rumor…” Everyone froze and watched, wide eyed, as the air all around Will seemed to move in waves.”… that all of you shut the fuck up for five full minutes.”

It was as if all the noise was sucked into a vortex and the room felt devoid of sound. Will rolled his neck from left to right and smiled. “Now, isn’t that better?” He looked at each of them. “Right. Can’t talk. You can just nod your consent, I completely understand.” 

For the first time that evening, the others seemed to be in complete agreement with one another. They each wore expressions of quiet fury on their faces. Will cheerfully ignored them and reached for a menu. He perused it and continued speaking, “I think you’ve all lost sight of the big picture. We—well, mostly Charlie, Dan and I, no offense Kyle, Woody—saved the world. _Again_. Oh nice, they have patty melts.” He glanced up from the menu and looked around the table. “It was dicey there for a moment, lads. We almost didn’t save it. But look at us. Here we are, together again, apocalypse averted.”

He sighed theatrically. 

“And yet. Instead of celebrating with appallingly greasy food in this diner, you choose to continue to squabble like children. It is only fitting that you’ve each been put in time-out to reflect. So let’s take stock and be grateful, shall we?”

Will turned and looked at Kyle. “You’re sober—“ Kyle lifted his hands and moved them side to side in a “so-so” manner. “— you’re more sober than you used to be at any rate, eh? You were so scared of the afterlife all of these years and look at you now. You’re in the healthiest relationship of your life…with a ghost.” Will frowned as he considered it. “That sounds a bit mad to say aloud.” 

Kyle nodded and laughed silently. 

Will shifted his attention to the empty place beside Kyle that he figured was Dan. “Dan. We thought you were gone. We buried—we, we had a memorial, there’s a statue of you at the academy, for god’s sake. You were always the best of us. It was devastating to lose you. Having you with us, even if it’s like this, is a gift. And we’ll keep trying to figure it out—there has to be a way to get you back.”

Will felt his eyes grow a bit damp at that. He blinked and glanced away to the window to compose himself. As he stared, a shape in the form of heart was drawn onto the glass. 

Will moved his gaze to Woody. Woody sat up straight in anticipation of the forthcoming praise. “Well, Woody, you really almost changed the world this time, didn’t you? Sounds as if you were this close to stopping Oswald.” 

Woody grinned widely.

Will tilted his head, “Course, that would have dangerously altered history and life as we know it. But still, you gave it your best. And I heard that you took out all sorts of bad guys along the way. Very nice. Hero-shit right there.” He lifted his hand in the air and Woody met it with an enthusiastic high five. 

Will leaned back in the booth and glanced sideways to Charlie. “Charles. Well. Thanks for getting The Commission to hand over suitcases for each of us. Very kind of them. Made the time jump much, much easier than the way you typically handle it.” Will nodded as if that settled the matter, ignored the outrage on Charlie’s face and looked back at the menu. “I’m _starving_.” He waved at a waitress who stood nearby.

She smiled at Will, “What can I get for you?”

“I would love a patty melt and a chocolate milkshake, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Her smile faded as she stared past Will at Charlie. “Um, your little brother seems quite agitated. Is he alright?”

Will glanced back over his shoulder and found Charlie with his jaw set and teeth gritted in anger. “Oh he’s fine. Just your typical teen, all in his feels… you know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s awful late to have him out on a school night, isn’t it?”

Will leaned in and in a confidential tone said, “It’s been a bit of an unusual night. He felt as if the world was ending so we all got together to help him—“ Will lifted his hands to make air quotes “—save it.” 

She blinked in confusion but didn’t press the issue. “Well, I’ll just go ahead and place your order then.” She walked away to the counter, leaving the group in total silence once more. 

Will cheerfully pulled his pocket watch out. “Would you look at that? Thirty seconds of bliss left before your endless chatter begins again.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll just take one more moment to enjoy it.” He sighed contentedly as they waited. 

Charlie’s voice fought its way into existence the exact second Will’s five minute of silence expired:

“IN MY FEELS?” 

—

Dan never minded when Will used his powers to quiet the group. They were some of the few times he actually felt seen.

Years of being forced to the sidelines, to the periphery and shadows of life, had shown Dan that words weren’t everything. In fact, some things were best left never being said at all. 

Being a ghost wasn’t so bad, really. He had Kyle. Kyle could see and hear Dan as clearly now as he could when there was still air in Dan’s lungs. Dan would never get over his good fortune in that the one person he most wanted to speak with was the only person who could actually hear him. He turned to look at Kyle now and found that Kyle’s eyes were already searching for his. Dan’s pulse had long ceased to beat, but he knew it would be doing all sorts of flips and tricks if it were still able. 

“Do you believe Will?” Dan asked softly. He didn’t trust himself to speak these particular thoughts any louder. He so wanted them to be true that he wasn’t sure he could voice them, not even to Kyle, who heard everything. “Do you think there’s a way to bring me back?”

Kyle’s eyes filled with warmth and he nodded. “God. I hope so. He’s right, you know—you truly are the best of us.”

Dan felt so light at Kyle’s words that he worried he had actually disappeared altogether.

Dan had long since figured out how all of this worked. He knew what he needed to do to reach the other side. Where to look, where to go to walk into the endless light and leave this world behind. 

But he wasn’t ready.

Somehow, Kyle had given him another chance at life. Different from the one he had known, but still one worth having. 

Dan knew his chances of rejoining Kyle’s world were slim, but he had seen enough crazy shit to believe it was possible. He was willing to be patient. 

Eternity could wait. 

Dan smiled at Kyle and leaned against him.

“Then I suppose I’ll keep saving this world with you lot until we figure it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> —big thanks to [ groundopenwide ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/groundopenwide) for the beta and commas
> 
> —I don’t know why gift fic month has inspired me to turn each of the guys into ghosts, but it’s been a tremendous amount of fun. Still a few more new things to come.


End file.
